Nocturnes
by Stars137
Summary: The time has come for Alexis Black to take his place in the war his family cannot escape. The darkness is rising and the final battle is at hand. Sequel to Toujours. Set during GOF. RL/SB
1. Prologue: The Final Hour

Nocturnes

Prologue: The Final Hour

_Dying didn't hurt. Not the way he thought it would anyway. If anything it was peaceful, rather like going to sleep. Dying in a graveyard. It was almost ironic. _

_He had come so far and fought so hard only to die at the base of a crumbling headstone. Dimly, he was aware of the battle going on around him. The hexes and curses flying through the air lit up the sky. It was almost beautiful; a symphony of colors that filled the sky. There was no pain for which he was grateful just a wonderful numbness pulling him further into the darkness. _

_Warmth was spreading through his hair at a rather alarming rate. It soaked his shirt and pooled beneath his head. As if by its own accord, his thin hand lifted and brushed lightly against the source of the wetness. Weakly he raised his hand and held it in front of his face though it was getting harder to see clearly. The brilliant radiance of battle provided just enough light for him to see. _

_The pale skin of his hand was stained crimson. This should have concerned him but it didn't. He was so tired, so very tired. His hand fell limply onto the grass beside him. He didn't even feel it hit the ground._

_It was getting harder to breathe. The graveyard was fading away; the colors whirled and began to diffuse. The sounds of battle were growing dim but he wasn't worried. They would be all right, he knew. They would be safe at last. _

_And he wasn't afraid. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. His eyelids seemed to be made of lead. He could scarcely breathe. Everything around him was becoming muddled._

_The colors were fading and the noise was becoming dim. The darkness was closing in around him. It was wonderfully peaceful in the darkness and mercifully quiet. He fought against the encroaching blackness but his struggles were weak, child-like. Utterly pointless. _

_The stars were shining brightly above, heedless to the pain and suffering beneath them. They were so beautiful. "Stars are so far away from us," a voice from a lifetime ago whispered in his ear. "And it takes so long for their light to reach us that it's already old by the time we see it." A memory for a lifetime ago. _

_How ironic they would be the last thing he ever saw. _

"'_**Tis now the very witching time of night**_

_**When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out."--- Hamlet, Act III, scii **_


	2. Chapter 1: Two Weeks

Chapter One: Two Weeks

Two weeks, just two weeks. This thought was the only thing keeping Harry from losing his mind. It had become his mantra. Two weeks. Just two more weeks.

In two weeks he would be leaving the Dursleys' for good. In just two weeks he would be going to live with his godfather. A home with his godfather. It was a dream come true but the wait was killing him. Dumbledore had contacted the Dursleys shortly before the end of term to inform them that Harry would soon be leaving them for good although he would need to spend the first week of summer with them until he came of age to renew the protection his mother's sacrifice had given him.

Harry was more than willing to agree to that as long as he could live with Sirius. Even if it meant he had to spend a week with the Dursleys' every summer. Besides, Sirius had already promised to spend that he would spend week with him and this lifted his spirits considerably though he wasn't entirely sure his aunt and uncle had been informed of this. And Harry had no intention of telling them, why should he ruin the surprise? Although Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were thrilled to finally be rid of him, they were less than thrilled about being contacted by someone in the wizarding world, especially after what happened with Aunt Marge last summer. They were even more horrified that in two weeks time a full fledged wizard would be descending on their home. And with the added strain the family was under due to Dudley's diet, Harry was doing all he could to avoid Dursleys unless absolutely necessary.

The Dursleys not only enjoyed this, they encouraged it. One afternoon, about three days into the summer holiday, the phone rang while Harry and the Dursleys were eating lunch. Sadly, meal times with his aunt and uncle were unavoidable. Eager to escape the, er, delicious meal of carrot and celery sticks, Uncle Vernon hurried to answer it. His booming voice carried all the way into the kitchen.

"Vernon Dursley speaking." After about a minute, Uncle Vernon's voice rang out from the living room. "You!" he barked at Harry. "In here. NOW." Feeling utterly bewildered, Harry left his food at Dudley's mercy and stepped into the other room.

Uncle Vernon was smiling rather maliciously as he thrust the phone into Harry's hand. "Oh you're in for it now boy," he said gleefully. Nothing made Uncle Vernon happier than Harry's misery. He practically skipped back into kitchen, closing the door behind him. Harry's confusion only increased ten-fold.

Who would be calling about him? He didn't even known anyone who used a telephone expect Hermione but after what happened with Ron last year she would have more sense than to call him. Harry tentatively pressed the phone to his ear. "Harry?" It took several moments for Harry to recognize the voice and when he did, he could barely believe it.

"Alexis!" Harry said in disbelief. "Not so loud," Alexis said in an almost amused voice. "You're blowing my cover; I told your uncle I was from library calling to collect four years worth of overdue book fines." It took self-control Harry didn't even know he had not to burst out laughing. "How did—why are you--"

"Dad was worried about you," Alexis said, cutting off Harry's stammering, "so I looked your aunt and uncle in the phonebook." "I thought wizards didn't use telephones," Harry said, barely able to contain his happiness. Sirius was worried about him. Someone was worried about him. Just like a parent.

"Some do," Alexis said simply. Harry could hear the faint din of people chatting in the background and wondered where Alexis was calling from. It sounded a bit like a shop. Harry remembered, vaguely, Alexis saying something in their first year during the Welcoming Feast that his aunt either owning or working in a shop of some sort. "So how are you? Are the Muggles treating you all right?" Alexis asked. "Same as ever," Harry replied.

"They've been too preoccupied with my cousin's diet to notice me much." There was so much Harry wanted to say, so much he wanted to apologize for. He just couldn't find the words. "Well, try and hang in there Harry, we're trying to speed things up as best we can," Alexis offered encouragingly. He truly sounded concerned and Harry felt ten-times worse.

"If you need anything at all send word with Hedwig, she'll know where to find us." "I will," Harry promised. "Stop running up the bill, boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from the kitchen. "I've got to go Alexis, tell Sirius I'm all right," Harry said quickly. "I will, take care of yourself Harry," Alexis said before the line went dead.

"I'm sorry," Harry said into the dead air. He held the phone for several more seconds before he hung it up and returned to the kitchen. Half his lunch was gone. Dudley shot him rather greedy smile across the table. Harry sighed heavily and bit into a carrot stick.

_Two weeks,_ Harry told himself, _just two more weeks._

* * *

After several hours of tantrums that shook the rafters, the house at Number Four, Privet Drive was at last silent. Dudley still had not quite accepted the fact that third and fourth deserts were not permitted by his new diet. The concept of being refused something by his tearful mother was also another unwelcome change the massive teen was having trouble adjusting to. But by the time darkness had fallen the house was still and all its residents were sound asleep. Well, most of its residents.

As soon as he was sure his relatives were sleeping soundly, Harry slipped silently from his bed, taking care to avoid making the floorboards creek as he knelt upon the floor. He slipped quietly beneath his bed, pausing to listen for any sign he had been overheard. When he was sure the Dursleys hadn't heard, he skillfully and quietly wrenched up the loose floorboard. Groping around in the darkness, Harry's fingers at last closed around the leather of one of his most prized possessions: a small album containing the precious few photographs he had of his parents. Harry sat on the floor with album on his lap, holding an old torch of Dudley's poised just high enough to illuminate the photos but not high enough that the light drifted into the hall.

But rather than looking carefully through the pages, greedily taking in every image of his mother and father as he did each night, Harry turned instead to the back of the album. When he was in the hospital wing recovering from his injuries after his encounter with Voldemort during his first year, Fred and George had gathered everyone in Gryffindor into the common room for a photo. After they had heard Hagrid was making an album for Harry, they felt it was only right he had a picture of his new housemates. Harry stared down the smiling, laughing faces of his classmates with a fond smile but there was one face in particular he was looking for. A face he had never bothered looking for or even given a second thought before now.

Alexis Black was perched on the arm of the chair where Lee Jordon was grinning madly, smiling slightly. His feet barely touched the ground. He looked uncomfortable, out of place. A part of the group yet separate. He'd probably only been in the picture because the twins asked him.

Fred and George had always seemed to get on well with Alexis. Keeping his finger on the page, Harry turned to the familiar picture of his parent's wedding. His bright emerald eyes sought out his godfather, standing beside his father and beaming with happiness. The Sirius in the photo was so different from the man Harry had met in the Shrieking Shack just a few weeks ago. His face was not emaciated or waxy but handsome and full of laughter.

Sirius seemed to light up when he was laughing and it looked as if he never stopped smiling. Seeing him like that, so young and full of life only made what Azkaban had done to him so much worse. Harry felt a stab of sorrow for his godfather who had suffered so terrible, so unjustly. He turned back to the photo of his classmates. Their smiles were exactly the same so much so that Harry was amazed he hadn't noticed before.

Alexis probably looked exactly like his father had at his age. Just like Harry looked like James. But the difference was, when people spoke of Harry's resemblance to his father it was with affection, even fondness. For Alexis however, it was with disdain and hatred. Harry felt a burning stab of guilt as he had thought the very same thing when he learned Sirius was his godfather.

Guilty by association. Tainted from birth. The murderer's son. He should've known better. He should've had the sense to know it was utter nonsense.

Harry sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. How could you make up for something like that? How could you atone for treating someone like that? Someone who had never been anything but kind to you. Harry sighed again, leaning back against his bed and feeling as if his strength had suddenly deserted him.

He wouldn't be surprised if Alexis never forgave him. Harry wasn't sure he could forgive something like that if it happened to him. Sitting up slightly, Harry turned once more to his parent's wedding picture. For several moments he stared, unseeing at the smiling faces, lost in his own thoughts when his eyes found two familiar faces. Standing just over Sirius's shoulder was none other than Professor Lupin with an arm around Madam Black's shoulders.

Moving so quickly he nearly dropped the album; Harry lifted it to get a better look. Madam Black was just as beautiful then as she was now. She looked no older than Harry himself and stood beside Lupin smiling and laughing happily. He shifted his gaze to Lupin who's youthful albeit scarred face was filled with laughter. His hair was thicker, darker and he looked much less shabby than Harry had ever seen him.

They all looked so happy. Just like a real family. In spite of the sadness and the guilt he was feeling, Harry smiled to himself in the darkness. A real family.

In just two weeks Harry was finally going to have a real family.


	3. Chapter 2: In the Dark of the Night

Chapter Two: In The Dark of the Night

_**Strong, icy cold fingers closed around his wrists in an iron grip and shoved him back against the wall. The rough wood dung into his back through the thin robes he was wearing. He should've fought. He should've tried to run. He wanted so badly to run.**_

_**But his body was frozen in place. A cold hand caressed his cheek, smoothing the hair from his face. Waves of disgust and terror washed over him. He should've screamed. Cassie and Regulus were just upstairs, they would've heard and they would've come running. **_

_**Maybe that was why he didn't scream.**_

"Sirius! SIRIUS!" Sirius's haunted grey eyes snapped open. Every inch of his fragile, wasted frame was covered in icy sweat and the sheets were twisted around him like a straightjacket. Remus was leaning over him, his kind amber eyes shining with concern. "Sirius, are you all right?" he asked urgently, a note of something nearing panic in his voice.

Sirius lay prone against the bed, staring up at his lover in wordless terror. It was taking everything he had and more not to start weeping openly. He was not in Grimmauld Place. He was with Remus. He was safe.

She could never hurt him again. Every inch of him was shaking violently and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Without a word or the slightest hesitation, Remus reached down and tenderly drew Sirius's fragile frame into his arms. Sirius clung to him desperately; burying his face in Remus's frayed but wonderfully soft pajama top. "Shh, shh, it's all right love, everything is all right," Remus kept hushing, running his fingers through Sirius's sweat dampened hair.

Sirius wanted so desperately to believe that. Remus was warm and surprisingly strong. Sirius closed his eyes and pressed as close as he could to the lycanthrope. He was not in Grimmauld Place. He was safe; he was finally safe wrapped tight in Remus's arms.

Whether a minute passed or ten, Sirius did not know, he simply slumped weakly against Remus, shaking and clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Finally, once his trembling began to ebb, Sirius pulled back oh so slightly. He would've liked nothing more than to stay like that forever. "Was it the Dementors?" Remus asked gently. Sirius felt sickened with himself; ashamed and disgusted.

_No_. "Yeah," he whispered. Sometimes it was just easier to lie. Remus's face softened lovingly. Sirius wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"You're safe now," he promised, gently smoothing the matted hair from Sirius's sunken eyes. Sirius forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded. "I know Moony, I'm all right now," Sirius said though he felt anything but. Gently, Remus folded Sirius in his arms and held him close. He stroked Sirius's long, un-kept hair and rubbed his back.

Remus could feel the hard bones of Sirius's back through his pajama shirt. He was still so painfully thin. There were small bruises on his back where the bones of his spine had rubbed against the skin. Sirius didn't know Remus had seen them. He was getting better, but it was a painfully slow process.

Slowly, Sirius wrapped his thin arms around Remus and held him close. It still hurts as if it happened yesterday. And it has hurt everyday for nineteen years. Pain made all the more worse in Azkaban. Sirius shivered and Remus tightened his arms. They lay back against the bed together.

Remus kept his arms around Sirius, smoothing the hair away from his tormented face. Sirius cuddled close, resting his head in the hollow of Remus's shoulder. "Goodnight love," Remus whispered in the darkness, pressing his lips lightly against Sirius's temple. Sirius tilted his head up and his lips found Remus's. He held the kiss a moment longer, savoring the fact he was able to do this again.

Gods, he'd missed this so damn much. He felt rather than saw Remus smile and a gentle hand caressed his cheek. "I love you," Sirius whispered. He prayed he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. "I love you too, Sirius," Remus said softly.

His voice was full of love and reassurance. And for the first time all night, Sirius feels truly reassured. Smiling softly, Sirius cuddled against Remus and closed his tormented gaze. Remus drifted off to sleep awhile later, still holding Sirius tight. Sirius lay awake in the darkness, watching Remus sleep in the dim light of the streetlight coming through a gap in the curtains.

He was utterly different but totally the same. Remus's soft brown hair was shot through with grey and his handsome, but scarred face was lined and tired. Yet he was still the same person Sirius hugged as he walked out the door that night.

"_See you later, Remus, I love you,"_ he had said. Thirteen years later, it turned out. They lost so much that night. So much more than anyone had a right to take from them. Sirius groaned softly, pressing closer still to Remus. Could he have picked a worse choice of words?

Wasn't reliving it every time he closed his eyes enough? Wasn't having it haunt him day and night on that bloody rock in the middle of the ocean enough? Wasn't losing everyone he loved in one way or another and going to Azkaban punishment enough for whatever he had done to deserve it in the first place! A lot of things haunted him in Azkaban but that was one of the worst. A violent tremor ran through Sirius's fragile frame.

He burrowed further beneath the thick red comforter, unconsciously cuddling closer still to Remus for warmth and comfort. Even hundreds of miles away, he still couldn't stop thinking about it. _That's how it kills you,_ Sirius thought grimly as he tried to push the morbid thoughts from his mind, _it never lets you forget. _He closed his eyes, trying shut out the darkness threatening to shallow him whole. No matter what he did, the darkness was always there.

As Sirius lay in the darkness listening to the comforting sounds of Remus's soft snores, he thought suddenly of their son. A sudden, terrible panic washed over him and it was suddenly hard to breathe. Alexis was fourteen. Sirius had been thirteen. He was trembling almost violently but he barely noticed it. His thin chest was heaving almost violently.

Every breath he took was struggle. Gods. Oh Gods. What if Alexis was too scared to scream? Sirius scrambled as quickly albeit as quietly as he could from the bed and Remus's arms.

Remus stirred as if in response to Sirius leaving his arms but did not awaken. Sirius pulled on Remus's faded dressing gown then hesitated. His troubled grey gaze lingered on his sleeping lover. Remus's face was soft in slumber, devoid of worry. Should he wake him?

Should he tell him? No, he decided before the questions had even finished forming. Instead, Sirius pulled the comforter over the sleeping lycanthrope and smoothed the hair from his handsome, scarred face. Remus smiled faintly in his sleep and burrowed beneath the thick comforter. Sirius retrieved his new wand from the night table, grateful for the comfort it brought him and crept quietly into the hall.

A faint light cut through the otherwise dark hallway. A light that was coming from beneath Alexis's door. Sirius's heart plummeted and his blood froze in his veins. Why was that light on? Alexis had gone to bed ages ago, why was the light still on?

Taking care not to make a sound, Sirius walked the short distance from his room to his son's. A small wooden sign painted in Gryffindor scarlet and gold reading ALEXIS'S ROOM hung on the door. A simple, wordless spell opened the door without a sound. At the sight that greeted him, Sirius barely stifled a laugh of relief. Alexis was safe.

He was sound asleep and completely safe. The light was coming from a bedside lamp shaped like a great red takeaway box and a book lay open on the floor. Alexis had fallen asleep reading. He was just fine. Sirius had been worried for nothing.

Gods, maybe Azkaban had unhinged him after all. Mentally kicking himself for his stupidity, Sirius retrieved the book from the floor. The book in his frail hand was battered, nearly falling apart and had been bound and rebound with spellotape. Sirius glanced at the cover. The title was just barely legible in the faint light.

_A Beginner's Guide to Herb Gardening._ Herb gardening? Alexis was interested in herb gardening? Sirius felt a sudden, terrible sadness. He should've known that. If he had been around, he would've known that.

If he had been a better father, he would've known that. Sirius sighed heavily, regretfully, and placed the book on the night table. He then reached out and straightened the comforter so that it covered the boy fully. Alexis looked so innocent in sleep and so much younger than his fourteen years. Like him, Alexis slept sprawled out, with one arm resting above his head while the other lay across his stomach.

His chest rose and fell gently with each breath. It was a truly mesmerizing sight. Sirius could've stood there and watched him forever. When Alexis was a baby, Sirius used to sit by his cot for hours just watching him sleep and marveling at the tiny baby that was a part of him. The best part.

Sirius had never wanted children, never dreamed he would have a child. And that was just fine by him. The idea of having a child terrified him. With the monsters that had raised him what kind of father could he be? He'd seen the damage it could do every time he looked in the mirror or when he watched his sister struggle up the stairs and had no intention of carrying on the cycle.

Then the Healer had laid the baby in his arms and Sirius had never wanted anything more. He reached out and smoothed the fringe from his son's face. Alexis stirred but did not awaken. Sirius stared down at him in silent awe. There was something pure and good in his face.

Something Sirius couldn't remember ever seeing in his own face. Sirius took Alexis's hand in his hand and laced their fingers together. Their hands were nearly the same size though Sirius's fingers were longer. Alexis had shed the bangles he wore during the day. They were stacked neatly on the night table.

Each one was a touch bent; slightly imperfect. A black wooden St. Jude bracelet clung to his bony wrist. Regulus had one like that when they were younger though it was a different saint, Sirius remembered, Cassie had bought it for him in Covent Garden. Sirius wondered where Alexis had gotten his. He wished he didn't have to wonder.

Sirius squeezed his son's hand gently, taking care not to wake him. With his free hand, he caressed Alexis's silken raven hair. His son. The only thing he had ever done right. "Don't worry," Sirius whispered.

He barely recognized his own voice, the horse rasp it had become. He didn't even remember what he used to sound like. "I won't ever let anything happen to you. Not ever." Sirius lightly ran his fingers over Alexis's feather soft hair. "No matter what, I'll protect you."

Sirius broke that promise once and he would not do it again. Not ever. "I love you," he whispered. Sirius straightened fully and turned off the lamp with a flick of his wand. Sirius started out the door then hesitated.

The rocking chair from Alexis's baby days sat in corner. Just like it had been in the nursery of their old flat in Soho. Sirius settled there, taking care not to make too much noise. He wasn't going to stay much longer. He just wanted to sit there for a few minutes longer.

And watch over his son a little longer. The chair was a gift from Caprica Malfoy. He wondered if Alexis knew that. It was the first piece of baby furniture they received. Remus told him she died a few years after the war ended.

She died in an accident of all things. The only one of their friends to die a normal death. There was a sick kind of comfort in that. She wasn't murdered. She wasn't tortured.

She died in an accident. It was strange to think that she was gone. Caprica was always so full of life. Never still and always talking nonstop about everything under the sun and more. He wasn't supposed to like her, she was a Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy's little sister of all things.

Sirius tried not to like her, to hate her the way he hated her brother. But you just couldn't not like Caprica Malfoy, it was impossible not to like her. He and Cassie had both lost their best friends. He leaned back in the chair, rocking it a bit. Alexis slept on.

Sirius's tormented gaze shifted again to the night table and the takeaway lamp. A few framed photographs were grouped around the lamp. None of friends, he noticed. Sirius frowned at that, hoping they were in an album and not what he was thinking. And deep down knowing it probably was.

Worse still that it was his fault. The murderer's son. Sirius's tired eyes drifted to the three pictures. And they only made him feel all the more worse. The one nearest the bed was of Sirius himself.

It had been taken the night Alexis had finally been well enough to come home with them. In the picture, Sirius was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the tiny creature cradled in his arms. He remembered how small Alexis felt in his arms, how fragile. That was why he didn't even look up when the picture was taken. He was in awe of his son.

Sirius's chest felt tight and he wiped frantically at his eyes to keep the tears from falling. He looked from the sleeping baby in the picture to the sleeping teenager before him. Gods, he had missed so much. Sirius recognized the next photo as well. Not because he was in it but because he was the one who had taken it.

Remus was leaning against a massive rock at the seashore. He looked overly pale and battered but was smiling shyly none the less. He'd always hated having his picture taken. That was probably why Sirius loved taking his picture. Cassie was standing atop the rock and grinning madly with her thin, pale arms wrapped draped around Remus's scarred neck.

Remus had never seen the ocean before. Sirius remembered the way Remus had laughed when he first laid eyes on the waves. The way he had smiled. Remus didn't smile like that often but when he did he seemed so younger, so much lighter. Sirius loved it when he smiled.

He remembered Cassie climbing on the rocks, gathering shells and smooth rocks. Sirius had been worried she was going to fall and called out at her to be careful. She had yelled back that he worried too much, skillfully using her walking stick to climb even higher. Without warning, Remus flung his arms around Sirius's neck and hugged him close. Remus's body felt fragile and battered.

His transformation the week before had been particularly bad. Sirius clasped him close, holding him tenderly but protectively. Neither of them said a word. They just stood there on the sand and held each other. They weren't together then.

Sirius wished they had been. He wished they'd more time together, more time with Alexis. The third picture made him feel all at once so much better and so much worse. It must've taken only a few years earlier, just before Alexis had started Hogwarts. Alexis stood beaming in his new school robes, holding a cage containing the barn owl Persephone who lived in a cage in the kitchen with Remus's ancient horned owl Archimedes when they weren't out hunting or delivering letters.

Remus stood with an arm around their son's shoulders, smiling proudly. Sirius felt a sudden, almost crippling jolt of sorrow. He wished he could've been there. He should've been there. _I must've been like that once,_ Sirius thought as he gazed at the photo.

But for the life of him, Sirius couldn't remember ever being like that. Happy. Innocent. He could remember, vaguely, sporadic moments of happiness from his childhood in the years before he started school. But those brief moments were few and far between, overshadowed by the darkness that had dominated in his every moment in Grimmauld Place.

Even the joy Hogwarts and his friends had brought him was darkened slightly by summers spent with his family. Sirius lay back against the chair, wrapping the dressing gown tightly around his shivering frame. He was tainted. Damaged goods.

* * *

"Siri? Sirius, wake up love." Sirius jerked awake in the darkness when a gentle hand touched his frail shoulder lightly. He was breathing heavily and couldn't seem to stop trembling. When had he fallen asleep? Remus was kneeling beside the chair, gazing at his lover in concern.

"Are you all right?" Remus whispered, tenderly rubbing Sirius's trembling shoulder. Sirius nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay." He glanced over the Lycan's shoulder at their son who was still sleeping soundly. "I'm okay." Remus followed his gaze, the worry on his face softening to gentle understanding.

Remus turned his gaze back to Sirius, smiling softly. He cupped the animagus's cheek in one hand, lightly rubbing his thumb over his lover's cheek. Sirius closed his eyes and leaned into the tender caress. "Come on love," Remus's voice cut through the wonderful lull. "Let's go to bed."

Sirius nodded and at last climbed to his feet. His thin frame was stiff and his muscles ached from staying in a fixed position for so long. He started to follow Remus from the room only to hesitate and glance back over his shoulder at Alexis. Remus tenderly took his skeletal hand in his, causing Sirius to look back at him. "He's safe, you can go," Remus said softly.

Sirius smiled faintly, grateful and deeply touched by the understanding. Remus had always been able to read him so well. He let Remus lead him back to their bedroom and pulled the door shut behind them. Sirius shed the dressing gown and settled back onto their bed though he made no attempt to lie back down. He couldn't go back to sleep.

Not yet. Not with the memories still so fresh. Sirius drew his knees to his chest and held them there with his arm. He heard the bedsprings creak as Remus settled just behind him. Remus leaned against him, resting his chin on Sirius's shoulder.

It felt wonderful. Remus had always felt so wonderfully warm. Sirius always felt so cold anymore. Yet another terrible side effect from his years in Azkaban. Warm, kind fingers tenderly caressed his overlong hair, tucking it behind his ear.

"After I lost you, I used to sit in Alexis's room for hours just watching him sleep," Remus said softly sometime later. Sirius pressed himself back against the lycanthrope, consumed with terrible guilt. Remus deserved so much better than him. "I'm so sorry Moony," he murmured sorrowfully. He'd caused all them so much pain.

Remus wrapped his warm arms around Sirius's nonexistent waist and hugged him close. His lips lightly brushed Sirius's cheek. "You don't have anything to apologize for love, I just want you to know I understand," Remus whispered sadly. But he had so much to atone for; he had done so many terrible things to the people he loved the most in the world. He had caused them all so much pain and misery.

"You should get some sleep Paddy," Remus murmured. Sirius shook his head. He had no intention of so much as closing his eyes. "Try," Remus encouraged gently, caressing his soft hair. "No."

Remus sighed and pressed his lips against Sirius's temple. "You need to sleep," he offered. Sirius shook his head, fighting against the tears threatening to spill from nearly overflowing eyes. "If I close my eyes right now I'll see things, things I can't--" Sirius's voice caught and he looked away.

He was grateful when Remus didn't say anything and simply held him. Sometimes physical comfort was so much easier than words. Remus pulled Sirius gently into his arms and settled against the headboard with the animagus in his arms. Sirius settled against his chest and cuddled close. He felt comfortable in Remus's arms, more than comfortable.

Loved. Safe. He was finally safe. Remus seemed content to simply hold him, rubbing his bony back in gentle pats. "You're safe now," Remus promised against his raven hair.

"I won't ever let anyone hurt you." Sirius clung to the werewolf like a bur, suddenly desperate for closeness. But it was too late. He'd already been hurt. She had broken him.

"I love you," Sirius said suddenly. He voice sounded horse and desperate. Pleading and pathetic. "I love you so much Moony, I love all of you so much. You and Cassie and Harry and Alexis, the four of you mean the world to me." Remus tightened his arms and kissed the top of his head.

"I love you too, Padfoot. I love you more than anything, we all do," Remus reassured him lovingly. Sirius rested his head against Remus's chest and closed his eyes. He should just tell Remus, just blurt it out and get it over with. He should've told him years ago. _He wouldn't love you if he knew,_ a nasty little voice sneered, _he wouldn't even be able to look at you if he knew._

A violent tremor ran through Sirius's thin frame. He felt Remus reach for his wand though he kept one arm securely around him. "Accio quilt." The faded patchwork quilt zoomed from the wardrobe and landed gracefully onto the bed. With his free hand, Remus covered them both and rubbed Sirius's back tenderly.

Sirius shifted slightly so that they were facing and tenderly cupped Remus's face in his hands. His skin was warm and smooth, a stark contrast to the rough, jagged scars. Remus closed his tired amber eyes and laid a hand atop Sirius's. He'd always been so self-conscious. Sirius always thought he was so beautiful. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Remus's in a tender kiss.

"Thank you," Sirius murmured against Remus's lips. He meant those simple words to mean so much and he prayed Remus understood. When he felt Remus smile back Sirius knew he did. Sirius pulled Remus into a tight embrace and moved to kiss the dark scars that marred his cheek. "I love you."

Remus sighed softly and laced his fingers through Sirius's silken raven hair. "I love you too, Sirius," Remus hushed. Sirius shifted again, settling against Remus's side. He rested his head in the crook of Remus's shoulder and draped an arm around his waist. "You can sleep now, I'll protect you," Remus said softly, rubbing the former prisoner's back in careful, gentle circles as the latter at last drifted off to sleep.

He did not dream.


End file.
